I am so excited to announced that I finally finished my first historical. I submitted a query to the Wild Rose Press a couple weeks ago and the senior historical editor requested the full manuscript. I should be hearing back on it in December. In the meantime, here is a little blurb and excerpt:

A Lady’s Dilemma

1865, Pennsylvania

Cassandra Huddleston has a dilemma. Her heart still resides with her sweetheart, Frederick Adair, recently killed in action at the close of the Civil War. Now she has a new suitor, Mr. Emerson Bryce. Powerful, attractive, and dominant, he usually gets what he wants. Cassandra must decide if she can forget the man of her heart and learn to love the man offering her a future.

But what if Frederick’s death has been greatly exaggerated and Emerson isn’t ready to let Cassandra go?

(In this scene, Frederick believes Cassandra has already engaged herself to someone else and is a bit hurt by it.)

 “Cass, what are you doing here?” he said quite casually, breaking the silence between them. He set the brush in his hand down on a bench and tousled a hand through his sun-lightened brown hair. Though his eyes revealed no displeasure at her sudden appearance, he seemed unsure of her intent. At this point she wasn’t sure what she was doing there herself. Her stalwart resolutions back at home seemed to be disappearing into the inky dark night. If he had come home hoping to marry her as they had promised, then he sure wasn’t trying very hard to see that come to fruition. “I…I’m not sure why I’m here.”

A slight smile curved in the corner of his mouth, the type of playful expression which commonly appeared on his features when they were younger. “It’s not like you to be indecisive, Miss Huddleston.” He said her name with a smirk as he leaned against a stall and crossed his arms.

Cassandra closed her eyes and tightly grasped the sides of her dress, trying to maintain her temper. “Will you please cease with the Miss Huddleston. It is becoming quite tedious, Mr. Adair.” She uttered his proper name with as much derision as she could muster.

He began to move in toward her, his strides determined and sleek. “And how shall I address you when you’re married?” His voice was low and provocative, making her heart give a little leap.

She made the mistake of gazing into those deep, wonderful eyes of his and forgot to breathe as his eyes, no longer playful, seared into her inwardly down to her beating heart.  When she was finally able to gulp down some air, her lungs began to pump again. “You may call me Cassandra as you always have…I hope.” Her voice came out breathy and weak.

“Oh, no, I don’t believe that would be proper.” He stepped right in front of her face and touched his forehead to hers. In that moment, it felt as if a dozen butterflies had been released inside her stomach. He grabbed her around the waist, but before he had the chance to kiss her, Cassandra returned to her senses. She pushed off from his chest and moved down toward the stalls, keeping her back to him as she held a hand over her galloping heartbeat.

 He was not going to kiss her before he explained everything: his miraculous appearance, his incalculable behavior, and what his future intentions were. “No, Frederick that wouldn’t be proper and I have never known you to be anything but proper.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Well, maybe not quite always.” A fraction of a smile escaped her before she could help it.

 He crossed his arms again and lifted his chin up a notch. “No, we have both had our lapses in propriety. So, maybe you can tell me why you’re here in my barn unaccompanied after night fall. Was it possibly to gloat over your engagement?”

She quickly pivoted her body until she was standing directly across from him. “I am only aware of one engagement…No!” She shook her head. “I am not going to speak of this until you clarify something first.”

He titled his head and raised his eyebrows. “Oh and what might that be?”

“Frederick, you were dead…well, you were pronounced dead. Your name appeared on the list. We had a funeral. We mourned for you.”

“And then you moved on to better pastures, I see.” He glanced at her hand. “And where is your ring? Left it at home to avoid thieves, I assume.”

“No, it’s here.” Feeling a bit bold, she opened her reticule to retrieve it. “Shall I put it on?” she asked as she held it out.

“As you wish.” He nodded his head to her as he pulled his mouth into an impertinent smile, appearing far too charming on his handsome face.

“Frederick, please drop this nonsense. We were never ones to play such games.”

“No, we weren’t.” His attitude turned serious again. “What do you want to know, Cass? Where I’ve been? Why I’m still alive?”

Cassandra nodded her head while a chilling wave of uncertainty struck her. All of a sudden she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know. Maybe it would be more than she was ready to hear. She turned her back on him again. “Yes, tell me how you went gadding about the South on some mission of glory.”

Frederick raced up to her, grabbed her about the shoulders and swung her around. “Glory? Do you think that’s what this was all about?” His eyes were startlingly bright and intense yet she wasn’t fearful of him. As angry as he might seem, she could see in those big brown eyes the man who had always loved her.

She stepped back away from him. “Call it what you like, Frederick. The truth is that you ran away to the call of battle—away from your responsibilities, away from those who needed you.” She searched his face while biting her lower lip in an attempt to fight back the threatening tears tightening her throat.

His glare softened at her words. “Before I left, we both shared beliefs that slavery was wrong…that ceding from the nation was wrong.” There was a pause of silence between them. “Glory, as you call it, was never my calling. Six months ago when you thought I was killed in battle, I very nearly was…